


The Ballet Fic

by She_comes_to_me_when_I_dream



Category: Panic! at the Disco, Ryden - Fandom, rydon - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Panic! at the Disco - Freeform, Ryden, Rydon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6272299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_comes_to_me_when_I_dream/pseuds/She_comes_to_me_when_I_dream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic in which Ryan is an accomplished dancer and dances the role of the Nutcracker Prince and Brendon is first chair of the company orchestra. Oh, and Ryan really hates leg warmers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own anyone, anything, or any works or anything related to that list nor do I claim to. This fic is NOT real and never happened.

Chapter One

"Remind me to wear my new shoes and throw these out tomorrow. Johann will fucking have a fit if I show up in busted up shoes again, especially for an audition." Ryan said to Brendon from where he was sitting against the brick under one of the large windows in the dance studio of their industrial, artsy New York City loft, pulling on his black, ballet slippers that were already worn out from only a month and half's use. 

Ryan and Brendon had moved to New York City a few years back to further Ryan's ballet career and now Ryan was one of the most accomplished dancers in his company. Brendon had followed Ryan here. He was a musician skilled in several instruments (unlike Ryan who was primarily a master guitar player who dabbled in song writing in his spare time) so he could work anywhere and he had made his way up the ranks in the orchestra of Ryan's dance company. Both Ryan's guitars and several other combined instruments of theirs lay around the apartment all the time, used by both often and very loved.

"Ryan, Z's shoes always look worse than those."

"Z does pointe Bren. It's not the same thing. She has to break in her shoes when she gets a new pair. There's a difference between purposefully broken in pointe shoes and my straight up busted up shoes."

"So are you gonna wear the leg warmers Ry?" Brendon changed the subject, smirking stupidly at him. The orange leg warmers were a joke he never liked to let die. Ryan hated leg warmers. He thought they were the tackiest looking things so last Christmas Brendon had gotten him some bright orange leg warmers as a gag gift. Today probably seemed like a great day to bring it up again as it was mid Fall, October, and tomorrow the auditions for Ryan's ballet company's Christmas ballet started. Ryan was auditioning for one of the leading roles: the Nutcracker Prince. That's why he was practicing now on an off day.

"I hate leg warmers Brendon. You know that. But since tomorrow is a big day, I'll wear them. Just for you. Get them."

Around five minutes later after Brendon had dug through a bunch of crap in their bedroom, Ryan had the horrid orange things on over his gray sweats and was standing at the barre. Both it and the mirror had been a bitch to get into this building.

"Damn it Bren. These are so tacky. I hate leg warmers." Ryan complained, staring at the bottoms of his legs as he began the basic positions.

"Too bad babe. You put them on so you have to wear them while you practice. You're not allowed to take them off until you're finished." Brendon's grin was huge.

"Don't push it Brendon."

"Ryan, you look so weird."

"That's pushing it."

Brendon continued to stare at him as he piléd. "You look so weird when you do that though. I like you better when you're leaping around the room."

"You won't like me if I pull a muscle or something because I didn't warm up properly." Ryan was now finishing up with fifth position. He quickly did a coupé and then a possé and then had one of his legs straight out in front of him on the barre. He arched back as far as he could, his other leg in a pilé and held the position.

"Hot."

"If you're going to harass me while I am trying to work you can leave." Ryan informed him but he couldn't really hide the lopsided smile on his face from Brendon's comment.

Brendon didn't make a sound as he went through his rond de jambs and a few battements but he couldn't stay quiet when Ryan ended up in a pilé relevé.  
"Okay now you look really weird Ryan."

"Will you shut up? I'm gonna start the actual routine in about a minute here. And you're gonna help me get a feel for the lifts I'm probably gonna end up doing when I get this part so don't go anywhere."

"Ryan, you're like a hundred pounds. You're not going to-"

"Brendon. I'm not going to drop you. I have muscles you don't even know about."

***

"Brendon, you know I can't eat that." Ryan was grinning as Brendon shoved a huge slice of vanilla cake with extra thick vanilla buttercream icing at him. He may not have been supposed to eat junk like cake as a dancer but he wasn't really protesting. Vanilla was Ryan's favorite. He often smelled like it and mix of sandalwood too.

Brendon had bought this beautiful cake with a frosting pattern of what looked like raised ribbon roses and surprised him with it the second he had walked in the door.  
Ryan had won the role of the nutcracker prince for this year's Christmas production of The Nutcracker a few days prior and Brendon now had the cake to celebrate. "Oh come on Ry. We haven't properly celebrated your lead role-"

"Technically Z is the lead. She's Klara."

"Ryan! Whatever. You weren't saying you couldn't eat this stuff last week when you were inhaling that cheese and bacon wrapped steak at Smith and Wollensky's."

"That's real food-"

"This is real Ry. It's a real cake. But if you don't want it I can throw it out the window I guess-"

"No! Did I say I wasn't going to eat it?!"

"Good. You're so tiny anyway Ryan. You need more sugar on your bones."

"I know. I have no ass. I'm not like you and your amazing curvy girl butt Bren."

"Aw but your tiny ass is so cute. And if you weren't so small, you wouldn't be as flexible as you are."

Ryan couldn't help but smirk hard at Brendon's comment. "If you fatten me up with all this cake, I won't be flexible anymore. And I know you like me flexible."

"Again if you don't want the cake-" Brendon began to pick up the platter.

"No! I want it! I want it!" Ryan took a huge bite of the sugary buttercream to show his enthusiasm and actually felt overwhelmed with how sweet and good it was. He never really ate sweets.

"But I want my boyfriend flexible." Brendon was giving him a hard time now. "Maybe the cake was a bad idea-"

"Brendon, leave the cake alone! I promise I'll be really flexible for you tonight."

"Okay. I guess the cake can stay. Congratulations Ryan. You really do deserve it babe."

 

Three Weeks Later...

"Shower. Now." Ryan murmured against Brendon's lips. He had been kissing him awake ever since his cellphone alarm had went off. 

It may have been 5:00 am but the idea of getting some in the shower from Ryan definitely got Brendon out of the deliciously warm sheets and blankets of their king size bed. He heard Ryan's dancer's feet cracking in the toe joints as he followed. The lights of Manhattan were still glittering against the dark blue sky as they passed the enormous window in the bedroom area of their loft on the way to the bathroom. 

"Time for me to get an adjustment." Ryan murmured quietly, flexing his feet slightly.

"These 6:00am rehearsals you guys do are gonna kill me." Brendon complained as Ryan was stripping off his clothes and turning on the hot water of the elegant, spacious glass and subway tiled shower. Brendon had to be there to play the background music for the dancers as they practiced.

"Imagine if you actually had to dance a lead role like some of us do." Ryan pulled his boyfriend into the shower, the glass walls and door quickly steaming up when it was closed. 

"Yuck. Playing the music early in the morning is bad enough. People shouldn't be awake at this hour. Shit, are we out of soap?"

"Just use this." Ryan shoved his usual vanilla sandalwood shower gel at Brendon. "But don't use all of it. And remember to put more soap in here later."

Brendon reached across Ryan and set the bottle Ryan had just given him back on the shelf. "Does it really make sense to use soap right now?"

"Uh yeah. You're in the shower."

"Duh." Brendon rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant and you know it Ryan."

Brendon leaned very close to him, suggestive. "This is what I meant." He kissed Ryan.

Forty-five minutes later Ryan was through with quite the "warm up". Brendon grabbed his black satchel and Ryan grabbed his black duffel bag and wove a scarf around his neck by the apartment door. 

"My hair is wet. I am gonna freeze to death." Brendon said.

"We're already kinda running late because of your idea of a "warm up" Bren. We need to go. I'm not gonna deal with Johann bitching us out because we get there late. I mean I can handle Johann but I really don't want to so move."


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"Don't you think you're cutting it a little close?" Elizabeth asked Ryan with a teasing smile on her face as he rushed down the hall to where she was sitting on the floor next to the doorway of his first class of the morning, sewing ribbons on to a new pair of pointe shoes.

"And what are you doing Zee?" Ryan fired back. "Breaking in a pair of shoes fifteen minutes before class. You should know better." Ryan dropped his gear bag next to her and joined her on the floor. He was already dressed in his dance stuff because he knew he wouldn't have the time to change clothes at the studio when he and Brendon had gotten out of the shower. He shrugged his heavy navy blue jacket off along with his scarf and stuffed them in the duffel bag, pulled out his black dance shoes and began untying the laces on his street shoes. "And it's not my fault. You can ask Brendon why we're late." 

She smirked at the two of them, but mostly at Brendon, as she put in the final stitches and closed her sewing kit and put it away in her own bag, replacing it in her hand with a pocket knife that she began using to abuse the pristine pink silk toe boxes of her pointe shoes. 

"Okay, Brendon. What's the excuse? Why are you keeping a top dancer away from class?" She knew damn well why and her smirk only got bigger when Brendon didn't answer. "So that's what was going on? Well, the mystery is solved."

"Yeah, I'm gonna go set up and tune some shit so Johann doesn't like rip my dick off because I am not ready." Brendon told them and went on his way away from the conversation about how he had just been with Ryan in the shower.

"So," Now Elizabeth was really attacking the bottoms of her shoes with the green knife, "I heard Ashley say that your turn out has been sub-par lately."

"What?!" Ryan looked right at her as he pulled one of his slippers on. He knew it was petty bullshit. Everybody in the company liked to talk shit about people who were higher up in the hierarchy and even the corps would talk shit about each other all the time but Ryan couldn't help feeling the slightest bit annoyed and bothered by the comment that Elizabeth had just told him. 

"I have the best turn out in this company." He scoffed. “Shit, I’m getting a corn.” He picked at the hard patch of skin that was forming between two of his toes of his left foot and winced.

"Aside from me of course." She grinned.

Ryan let out an audible huff before he could stop himself, leaving the developing corn alone and putting his other shoe on. 

"You're really lucky I like you Zee. Tie for first?" He smiled.

"Deal." Elizabeth put her knife back in her bag, grabbed her shoes and got up, placing the toe boxes against the door frame. "Now can you help me with these?"

Ryan nodded, quickly zipping up his duffel bag and standing up. "And then I really need to get in there."

"Just slam the door on them a couple times." She directed as Ryan grabbed the door handle.

_ *_

“Ow!” 

Ryan really hated getting adjustments. He was lying on the exam table in the office of the company’s podiatrist. She had been yanking his toes and feet this way and that way for the past ten minutes, his bones cracking loudly every time. And that was after she made him put pressure on the spots that were bothering him along with his ankles by doing the dance moves that made them act up in front of her so she could see where the problems were.

“Ow! Damn! Sasha, you’re killing me!”

“Honey, you have one more pull. I think you can tough it out.”

Ryan gripped the sides of the table. “Do it.” He gritted his teeth.

Sasha grabbed the upper part of his right foot with her dark brown hands that were surprisingly strong for how delicate they appeared and yanked firmly downward.

“Ow! Shit!”

She ignored him and repeated the same thing with his left foot.

“Damn! Ow! What the hell Sasha?! I thought you said I had one pull left!”

“I meant for each foot. Don’t get clever. You know that Ryan. And if you would come and see me more often like you’re supposed to you wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“This is why I don’t come see you.” Ryan sat up.

“Don’t get clever. And anyway, have you been soaking your feet every night like you’re supposed to? You have a corn forming on your left foot-“

“I know. And you’re not chopping it off.” Ryan was well aware of the corn and he was also well aware of the fact that it was going to be absolute hell to perform on when opening night came along.

“If you don’t let me take care of it it’s only going to get worse.” 

“You’re not chopping it off right now.” Ryan told her firmly. “I have rehearsals all afternoon. I don’t have time to spend two days in recovery.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “But you know you’re not going to like it when it turns ulcerous.”

“I’ll deal with it later.” He hopped down and went over to the counter where he had stashed his ballet slippers and pulled them back on.

Brendon was waiting for him outside the office door. It was their lunch break and now they only had about half of it left before they had to get to rehearsals.

“You sounded like you were having fun in there.” He smiled a massive smile at Ryan.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “I hate adjustments. And she wanted to cut a corn out of my foot. Not happening. I’m not gonna have some little bitch trying to take my role because I’m a wimp who let a corn knock him out of practice.”

“Ryan. Sweetheart. Nobody’s taking your role.” Brendon laughed.

“Damn right nobody’s taking my role. And especially not because of a stupid corn. Can you imagine Johann’s face if I told him “Oh, I can’t work today. I have a corn?” Come on.”

“Let’s just go get something to eat.” Brendon continued laughing. “You might be able to practice on a protein shake sometimes but I almost died the last time I missed lunch.”

_ * _

“Zee, who is that?” Ryan leaned in to Elizabeth and pointed to a new person he had never seen before that had just breezed by them at their first rehearsal that afternoon. He was a short, pale thing with shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, and was nearly as skinny as Ryan.

“Transfer soloist from LA. Last name’s Iero or something.”

“Oh. Mouse King.” Ryan nodded. “That’s why I didn’t recognize his name when they put the cast list out.”

"He's good looking." Brendon commented, suddenly behind Ryan. Ryan didn't even know he was there.

"Shouldn't you be behind the piano?" Ryan teased pointedly, ignoring Brendon.

"Aw, is someone jealous?" Brendon kissed him on the cheek.

"Brendon. You need to go."

"Alright. I'm going." Brendon said and then headed for where he belonged. Ryan and Elizabeth also went to take their places where they belonged. The remaining stragglers scattered when the short, blonde director walked in the room with another choreographer, a mousy brown haired woman to which Brendon referred as "being even more hipster than Ryan."

When the basic warm up work was done the two had everybody start extension work. Brendon kind of almost felt physical pain watching the dancers bring one of their legs up against their chests to where their foot was pointed straight up into the air. Well, except for Ryan. He always just thought it looked really hot when Ryan did that move.

It was amazing to him that Johann and his partner had corrections for anyone in that room but they did every time. Even Elizabeth got an ear full later when she and Ryan were doing one of the pas de deux lift sequences.

"Elizabeth, you can't turn on four when he's only going to be ready for you on five. And you need to stop doing the fancy stuff with one arm or whatever it is you think you're doing. It's not part of the choreography. Try it again."

"What did I just say about not turning on four?"

The good thing was that Johann's "German-ness" hadn't slipped back into his voice because that was the warning sign that he was getting agitated. He was actually a very patient man when directing and teaching dancers but it was not good at all when he actually did get pissed because someone wasn't heeding his corrections or if someone caught him in a bad mood. There had been times when he had cursed people out in German and shouted at them to get the hell out of the studio but most of those times were when he had been in a bad mood. Johann didn't seem to be anywhere near a bad mood today so there was nothing to worry about it seemed but he was also a person that could put on a neutral mask so nobody could ever be certain.

It didn't matter that day either way because Ryan and Elizabeth were eventually able to run the lift combination right a few times in a row before everyone continued on with the rest of the five hour rehearsal.

_ *_

"Ryan, shouldn't you be soaking your feet?" Brendon joked, giving Ryan, who had pushed him up against the wall the second they got back to their loft that night after eating something on the way, a hard time, referencing Ryan's complaining about Sasha scolding him about not soaking his feet enough.

"Fuck my feet. I'll soak them after." Ryan began to suck and nibble behind Brendon's ear. "Just come on. Today was annoying. I need you tonight."

It wasn't like Ryan had to ask twice. Brendon hoisted him up to where Ryan's legs were wrapped around his hips and his arms wrapped around Brendon's neck and carried him off to their bedroom.

_ * _

"So you're not gonna soak your feet?" Brendon grinned stupidly as Ryan snuggled up to him sleepily when they had finished after he had switched the lamp on the nightstand off.

"Shut up." Ryan laughed. "No I'm not soaking my feet. I'm tired. Fuck my feet."

"Alright. You don't have to soak your feet." Brendon kissed him on the head.

"Damn right I don't have to soak my feet." Ryan said. 

Brendon started giggling.

"What?! I'm not soaking my feet! I hate dragging the foot bath out and I'm exhausted. Somebody who is amazing in bed wore me out."

"It just kills me that you even have a foot bath!" Brendon was laughing really hard now there in the dark. "Or that this is even a thing!"

"Brendon. I dance. My feet suck." Ryan defended himself only half-heartedly because he was giggling too. "Just go to bed." He kissed him on the cheek and settled back against Brendon's chest.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

"Ryan, are you okay? You looked like you were having a bad dream." 

Ryan awoke to Brendon looking at him, concerned.

"I'm fine. Did I wake you up?" Ryan asked, sleep heavy in his voice. "Just a shitty dream. What time is it?"

Brendon looked over at the clock. "3:00am. We have a couple more hours to sleep."

Ryan snuggled back up to him, wanting to put what he had been dreaming about out of his mind. "Sorry for waking you up."

"You were tossing and turning really bad. What were you dreaming about?"

Ryan was not this pathetic. He wasn't. He couldn't believe the dream he had distrubed him so much that he had woke Brendon during it. 

"I dreamed you left me for that transfer guy." He admitted. Ryan knew it wasn't ever going to come true and he felt stupid and insecure for no reason for even having the dream.

The first thing he had learned after rehearsals had run their course the day before was that Frank Iero, the mouse king, was a huge flirt. He had chatted with Ryan and Elizabeth and pretty much flat out told Ryan he was hot while doing so. Then he asked them who the "hot piano boy with the cute ass" was which made Ryan promptly put an end to that, telling him that the "hot piano boy with the cute ass" was his boyfriend. Frank had laughed him off, saying it was too bad and told him to relax, that he was just looking and he wasn't going to make a move or something because he had a boyfriend too, some free lance artist that was working set design. Frank said Ryan would probably meet Gerard eventually.

"Oh sweetheart. What? I'm not leaving you Ryan." Brendon reached for him in the dark.

"I know. And I feel really dumb for waking you up." Ryan snuggled back up to Brendon again. "Let's go back to sleep."

 

_*_

"How the hell am I supposed to cook anything with you two sitting on my counters?" Brendon asked of Ryan and Elizabeth, who were both sitting cross legged on top of the kitchen counter that night after the day of classes and rehearsals, their small dancers' bodies having no trouble fitting comfortably in the tiny granite space.

The only answer Ryan provided was: "This is where I sit. I sit up here all the time. Tell her to move."

Brendon sighed and gave him a small peck on the mouth. He then headed over to all the ingredients he had gathered together for tonight’s meal.

"It has been a long day Ryan. You move." Elizabeth wasn't having any of that.

"You know Zee, just because your shoe maker might be retiring doesn't mean you have to give me attitude." Ryan teased.

"Hey, fuck that Ryan. You were pretty pissed after jazz today when you thought it was club that was done."

"But it's not club. It's spade. And I know this is a very hard moment for you Zee, and I'm glad I'm here to share it with you, but there are other fish in the sea and all that."

Club and spade were the shapes etched in the bottoms of the ballet shoes that Ryan and Elizabeth wore. Nobody in the company really knew the name of the person who had their foot measurements and likes/dislikes and that made their shoes, but each of the makers had a signiture mark carved into the bottoms of the ballet slippers they put out for their dancers by which the dancers often referred to them. Ryan's shoe maker was simply "club" to him and Elizabeth's was simply "spade" to her.

"But Ryan! I've gotten used to spade! I can't just get a new shoe maker!"

"Zee. Maybe they heard wrong. Maybe spade is just taking some time off. Or maybe someone in the corps is just making up bullshit to piss you off."

"Probably Ashley." Zee rolled her eyes. "She had enough to say about your turn out."

"Yeah okay. But who's a principal here?" Ryan said. "Me. And I didn't become a principal with shitty turn out."

"Whatever. Do you have any of those frozen yogurt bars?" Zee hopped down from the counter and waltzed over to the stainless steel fridge. "I have to eat something. Might as well eat ten pounds of frozen yogurt. Not like it's gonna matter if I get fat. Spade is done. I'll never dance again. I won't have shoes."

"Just get me one of those too." Ryan ignored her complaining.

"Ryan. You still have a shoe maker. You can't get fat." She told him over her shoulder as she dug in the box of frozen yogurt bars in the freezer, a small smile on her face as she waited for Ryan to take the bait.

"Zee. Stop being an ass and get me a damn ice cream."

"Fine. Fine. But don't complain when everyone refuses to roll your fat ass into the studio. Don't say I didn't warn you. Catch."

"Are you seriously calling Ryan fat?" Brendon looked up from the green peppers he was chopping for the pasta sauce he was preparing.

"Calm down Brendon. I'm not being serious. No need to come to Ryan's rescue."

Ryan had the dessert unwrapped by the time she was up on the counter with him again.

"Ryan's so fit I'm not even gonna say anything when he eats an entire cup and a half of pasta tonight."

"Whatever. Tomorrow's Friday. It's almost Saturday. I'm gonna eat like it. And I haven't cheated like this in a couple weeks. So put the cup and a half in for me Bren." Ryan told his boyfriend. He leaned far over to give Brendon an appreciative pat on the ass. Saturday was their off day. It was the one free day they had in the entire week.

"And just the three quarter cup for me." Zee added.

"You guys are so weird." Brendon shook his head as he checked the pot of water on the stove.

"It's not weird Bren." Ryan said. "Zee's gotta save room for that ten pounds of frozen yogurt she's gonna be eating."

"Shut up Ryan oh my god what the hell are you doing-"

Ryan had absently slid the entire length of the frozen yogurt bar into his mouth but he quickly pulled it back out as Zee's exclaimation. "What?! It's not that big!"

_*_

"Ow." Ryan complained as he sat picking at the corn on his foot around noon on Saturday. He had the tv on in the background and was waiting for the foot bath to heat up.

"Ryan, why don't you just have it removed and get it over with? Just let Sasha cut it off." Brendon watched him from the other sofa. He picked up the remote and began flipping channels.

"Because I don't want Sasha to cut it off." Ryan answered stubbornly.

"You were complaining about it all night after practice."

"Bren. It hurts. Do you have any idea what it is like to dance with one of these things?"

"So have Sasha cut it off."

"And miss two days of practice. I can't." Ryan poured a good solid amount of epsom salt in the foot bath. "I'm gonna stay off my feet today and I’m gonna soak it and put some antibiotic on it and it's going to go the hell away before rehearsal tomorrow morning. It’s going to go away because I don’t have time for it because I have to do more work with Zee on the pas de duex stuff and then on Wednesday I have to start doing the Mouse King scenes with Frank."

"Okay Ryan."

"Don't "okay Ryan" me. She's not cutting it off."

Ryan slid his feet into the hot water. It effectively numbed the corn. "See? Feels better already."

"What happens when you take your feet out of the foot bath though?" Brendon smirked.

"Shut up. Is there anything on?"

Brendon pressed the select button on the remote and exited the channel guide. "There is actually." He had a gigantic and idiotic grin on his face as he switched sofas so he could sit next to and put an arm around Ryan. "Your favorite show. Dance Moms."

"No." Ryan declared.

Brendon started giggling as Abby Lee Miller filled up the television's screen.

"You won't be laughing when I get so mad that this stupid corn bursts because I am so mad. Seriously, what the hell is this shit?! Who the hell is this woman?! I’d like to see her try to dance. I’d like to see her try to do what I do."

“I love you Ryan.”

“I hate this show Bren.”

“That’s why we’re watching it.” Brendon kissed him on the cheek.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

 

"Hey, Gerard. Since you're here, you wanna know how to torture ballet dancers?" Brendon grinned. 

Ryan, Zee, Gerard, and Brendon were the only ones left by the stage after hours of rehearsing and the beginning of blocking the scenes of the ballet for opening night. Gerard was waiting for Frank to come back and grab his things.

"Sure."

"Don't you fuckin' do it, Brendon!" Zee warned from where she and Ryan were packing up their stuff.

"I swear to God Brendon if you play the-" Ryan began to second her.

Brendon was already punching out the opening notes to the famous upbeat Christmas-y number that was the most well known out of the entire Nutcracker production on his violin.

"Stop!" Zee demanded. "It has been too long of a day!"

Brendon tried not to make his laughing too obvious as he continued playing what he had heard both Ryan and Zee dub "the hell song" before.

"Brendon, would you stop? We're already gonna hear this song in hell." Ryan complained.

"Oh my God, turn that shit off!" Frank ordered as he came back into the theatre after filling up his water bottle at the fountain in the hallway outside. "Whoever is playing that, turn it off!"

"As you can see, there are ways of making them talk," Brendon told Gerard, all smiles as he finally took mercy on Frank, Zee, and his boyfriend after another long thirty seconds more.

"Hate that shit. Hate Nutcracker season." Ryan muttered as he tied the laces on his street sneakers.

"Does anyone want to get a pizza?" Zee asked the room.

"Zee. It's Tuesday." Ryan said.

Zee gave him a look that told him she clearly didn't care. "So?"

"So I can't cheat and eat junk like four days after cheating and eating junk and an assload of pasta."

"Ryan. Chill. Who cares? I know you. You inhale food and you're still a stick. So stop giving me this health kick bullshit. You and Brendon can get a pizza with me."

Zee turned to Frank and Gerard, swinging her dance bag over her shoulder. "Do you guys wanna come? We're all going Dutch."

"Yeah. Sure. I guess." Frank decided. "Gerard can show you some of the set and what the costuming people are doing right now. He can show you my awful mouse suit."

"Okay." Zee nodded. "You know that hole in the wall like ten minutes from here? I know you just got here a few weeks ago but I'm sure you've seen it. The pizza place by that Korean barbecue with the neon pink and yellow signs? Looks like a huge highlighter? That's where we're going."

 

_*_

 

"Okay, is it just me or does that thing get uglier and uglier every time we do the Nutcracker?" Zee asked as she reached over the table and the veggie pizza Frank and Gerard were splitting because Frank was vegetarian to point at the picture Gerard had taken of the Nutcracker doll while painting sets that day.

"It gets uglier every year. At least you're not the guy playing the Nutcracker. I'm the nutcracker prince. Do I look like this?!" Ryan exclaimed indignantly. "Do I look like that thing?! It's not right!"

"It's a lot uglier in person. I think they said we're gonna repaint the face." Gerard contributed.

"Ryan. I think the idea is that you turn into a handsome prince instead of that ugly thing by magic." Frank pointed out. "And if that doesn't make you feel better, be happy you're not leading a gay boy rat cult-"

"Not every guy in the company is gay Frank." Zee interrupted.

"You're kidding, right? You could probably count all the heteros on one hand."

"But still, there are like three that aren't." Zee laughed.

"Anyway, the choreography has them all bowing to me and shit-"

"I'll bow to you, Frank," Brendon said, sultriness in his voice that was over-exaggerated.

"You're an idiot." Ryan rolled his eyes.

"Aw, Ryan's jealous." Zee teased.

"Screw off, Zee."

"Shut up, Brendon," Frank said. "I was in the middle of something. Why do I have to be the mouse king? Is it because I am short-"

"Are you seriously complaining about being a transfer with a lead role?" Brendon cut him off again.

"No, I'm not complaining about having a lead role. I'm complaining about the role. There's a difference. Why do I have to be the mouse king? They probably only gave it to me because I am four nine. And Gerard, you need to talk to the costumers-"

"Hey, I just paint sets and shit."

"You should still talk to them. Why does my mask have red eyes? I'm not a demented mouse."

"I cannot believe how much you guys drag the Nutcracker every year." Brendon laughed.

"We complain about Swan Lake just as much every time we do it," Ryan said in his and Zee's and Frank's defense, waving a half-eaten slice of pepperoni pizza around.

"Really Brendon, no offense, but you're not a dancer. You'll never understand the pain of the hell song. Especially right after a day when you have to take a modern class. Modern is not my favorite." Zee said.

"And then we had to go right into rehearsals after. But modern wasn't as annoying as Johann telling me to get off the floor like twenty times in a row during combinations today. What, does he want me to fly out of the window and back to Jersey where me and Gerard came from? I was off the floor." Frank said. "I'll be happy to get out of gay boy rat club this weekend."

"Is anybody even doing anything fun this weekend?" Zee asked, changing the subject.

"I convinced Gerard to black cat at some bar Saturday. He's got a killer voice. Not that he ever shows it to anyone. His lyrics aren't that bad either. I'm playing the guitar in the background." Frank said.

"You play the guitar?" Brendon asked. "So does Ryan. He writes too."

"That's my other thing."

"Frank's a guitar genius," Gerard said.

"So is Ryan."

"Brendon sings," Ryan said. "Never really thought about black catting, though."

"Brendon sings. And plays about every instrument known to man. And I just sing in the shower. Probably badly." Zee said.

Ryan elbowed her. "Zee, you have a good voice. Chill. And you know as much as I do about books and shit. And I can also play the banjo. But nobody wants to know about that. Actually, Mark Twain said that a man who can play the banjo but doesn't is a gentleman."

"Well, whatever," Zee said to Frank. "While you and Gerard are out bar hopping I'll probably be pulling toenails off and Ryan will probably be popping a corn Saturday night."

"I hope so," Ryan told her. "I do not want to do the pointe class I have in a couple days with a corn."

"What a wimp." Zee snorted. "I do pointe every day with much worse."

"You do pointe, Ryan-"

"Yes! I do pointe!" Ryan didn't even let Frank finish or give him that amused look people liked to give him when they found out about it. Ryan really only took pointe when he started it as something to do to add more under his dance mastery and he wasn't anywhere near as good as Zee was at it. "Not as much as the girls obviously. I don't take classes that much but yeah, I can do pointe."

 

_*_

 

"Zee, do you think you could stop picking off your toenails in my apartment? Thanks." Ryan said sarcastically Friday night as he waited for Brendon to bring the popcorn and drinks from the kitchen for all three of them so they could get to Netflix.

"Can you chill, Ryan? They need to come off and they hurt enough without your bitching. It's not like I'm not throwing them in your trash can."

Zee grimaced in pain as she worked the rest of a split pinkie toenail off her foot and put it in the trash can she had taken from Ryan and Brendon's bathroom. Then she looked back at Ryan. "Can you get me some antibiotic and some bandaids? And can I use your foot bath?"

"Really, Zee? No, I need my foot bath tonight."

"Or you could be a good friend and let me use it first since I already have my feet all gross and out of my shoes and ready," Zee suggested.

"It's my foot bath!"

"Please," Zee fluttered her eyelashes, "I'll be your best friend."

"Zee."

"Ryan. Please. You don't have several toenails missing. You just have a corn."

"That's turning ulcerous! I was dying during pointe today! All those stupid fouettés right out of the fifth position!"

"Ryan. Look at my feet and stop being melodramatic. My feet are worse than yours. I know they are."

"Zee."

"Fine." Ryan gave in a second later. "But you're gonna clean it out so I can use it when you're done."

"Deal."

"Brendon!" Ryan called out. "Can you get my foot bath and stuff and fill it for Zee before you bring any food in here?"

"Yeah. In a second!"

"I guess I will get your antibiotic. I'm too good to you Zee." Ryan declared, heading for the bathroom. When he returned with the ointment and band aids Brendon had plugged in the foot bath and Zee was soaking her feet in epsom salt.

"Dance with me, Ryan!" Brendon exclaimed upon seeing him.

"I've been dancing, Brendon. All week." Ryan said as he sat the antibiotic and bandages on the coffee table in front of Zee.

"Not with me!"

Ryan rolled his eyes as Brendon poorly imitated what Ryan could only guess was a sous sous.

"Is he trying to do a sous sous?" Zee asked. "Seriously, what is he doing?"

"I'm twinkle toes!" Brendon continued jumping, uncoordinated. Ryan didn't think he realized how uncoordinated he looked at that moment.

"Brendon, that's not a sous sous. And your turn out is horrible." Ryan informed his boyfriend.

Brendon pouted over dramatically.

"This is a sous sous," Ryan said and then demonstrated two in perfect, fluttery hops. "I'm sure you can see the difference from what you were doing."

"Dance with me, Ryan," Brendon repeated.

"You want me to dance with you?"

Ryan walked across the room, judged the correct distance for what he wanted to do and then leaped into a grand allegro. When he landed he pas de bouréed the last few feet to Brendon and picked up his totally off guard boyfriend and lifted him over his head.

"Ryan, what are you doing?!" 

"Stop squirming. I'm not gonna drop you, Bren. When are you going to understand that?"

Ryan set Brendon down not five seconds later. "There. I danced with you." 

Brendon was grinning like a total idiot because he had gotten what he wanted from Ryan. "That was so hot Ryan. You should dance with me more."

Zee made a face. "Gag. Can one of you just get the popcorn so we can watch movies? And there better be an assload of butter on that stuff if it's gonna pretty much be my dinner tonight. And there will be no making out during."

"That's gonna be hard after what Ryan just did, Zee," Brendon said. "I don't know if I will be able to help myself."

"I'll put my nasty toes on everything you love Brendon."

"You better keep your feet away from me," Ryan told her. "I'll take the foot bath away."

"Touché," Zee said. "But no making out."

 

_*_

 

"You came to see me again?" Sasha turned the jazz on her radio down as Ryan entered her office Monday during a break. Sasha was always listening to jazz. "I don't believe it. It's barely been two weeks. You never see me when you're supposed to." She teased.

Ryan slipped his dance shoes off and set them on one of her counters like usual. He hopped up on her exam table. He removed three band aids that were protecting the corn. "What can I do about this?" He held the foot with the corn out in her direction.

Sasha pushed her dreads behind her shoulders and walked over to Ryan. 

"I've been soaking my feet in epsom salt almost every night for the past two weeks and I've been putting a ton of antibiotic on it." Ryan didn't even let her start in on him about the foot bathing. "It's not going away. It's getting worse."

Sasha took a quick look at the corn. "It looks like it's starting to become an ulcer. So you know what I am going to say, Ryan. I need to cut it and treat it."

"You can't chop it off," Ryan said, shaking his head. "I have to work. I can't miss rehearsals for a corn."

"Honey, like it or not, I'm eventually gonna have to cut it off. I promise you you'll dance again." She teased him again.

"You're not cutting it off."

"Ryan. The longer you wait, the longer it will take to heal."

Ryan ignored that. "What can I do for it that doesn't involve cutting it off?"

Sasha sighed. "Keep cleaning it and soaking it every night. Make sure you dry it thoroughly before you put antibiotic on it. Aside from that, the only advice I can offer you is to try to pad it more. I can also clean it for you before you go if you want. But eventually, you're probably gonna end up back in here."

"...Okay. Thanks," Ryan began to get down.

"Did you want me to adjust anything?" Sasha asked before Ryan's feet could touch the floor.

Ryan hesitated. 

"Yeah." He decided. He got back up on the exam table. "I guess. Since I'm here. I guess you can clean the thing too."

"What are you doing up there, Ryan? Go put your shoes back on and show me where you're having problems."


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

 

"Where did you get this? This is actually kind of funny." Ryan said, turning toward Brendon in the bed with his phone, smiling. Brendon had texted him a meme that said: 

During Adagio: I dreamed a dream my legs were hiiiiigh.

Brendon shrugged. "Some forum. I thought you would get it."

"It's funny. Brendon, will you rub my back while I fall asleep?" Ryan looked kind of pitiful as he stretched out on his stomach under the blankets and cool sheets, putting his phone aside. "Everything hurts. Pointe class hurts."

"Did you take another pointe class again?" Brendon asked. "On top of rehearsal and everything else?"

"You know I did Bren. I have to take so many classes a season for that," Ryan picked at the exposed brick wall behind their bed through the slats in their dark wood headboard.

"Ryan."

Ryan gave Brendon a look but then he went back to being pitiful. "Don't Ryan me. Oh shit, this I how I die. Pointe is how I die. Zee would tell me I am being dramatic but pointe is how I die. I'm not trained by Russians Brendon. I should have been. Maybe I would be a better dancer but I wasn't."

"You tell me about being trained by Russians all the time but I still have no idea what you are talking about," Brendon said.

"God Brendon, you see me practice here all the time and I am perfect and then I get to class I suddenly have no idea what the concept of balance is or I think everyone is turning when they aren't."

"Ryan. Sometimes you are so crazy," Brendon began rubbing between his shoulder blades.

"Mm. That feels good. Hey, do you think if I slept in butterfly after this I would wake up with better turnout?" Ryan's eyes slipped shut as he mused over this concept to his boyfriend.

"What?" Brendon, of course, had no idea what Ryan meant by butterfly.

"Maybe if we started having sex in the butterfly position," Ryan continued, "I'm pretty sure that's not the same thing but it might work."

Brendon burst out laughing.

"It would be fun to try!" Ryan reached out and blindly and defensively jabbed at his boyfriend.

Brendon made himself stop laughing. "Ryan, I'm gonna do a real date with you this Saturday. Even if we just stay in and watch movies again. I'm gonna make it really romantic or something. Maybe we'll have sex in the butterfly position that night. Just for you."

"Shut up!"

"Maybe you can wear the leg warmers too." Brendon joked. 

"Kinky," Ryan snorted. Brendon never tired of that stupid joke with the leg warmers and its result of hearing about Ryan's hatred of them. "But no. Ew. Maybe I'll teach you how to dance."

"You would dance with me?" Brendon seemed about ten shades perkier now even though they both had just gone through another very long day.

Ryan tried not to snort again. He looked at Brendon through one eye. "You're excited."

"Ryan, how many times have I told you that you should dance with me more? Instead of just a few minutes or when I help you practice for an audition. I'm excited."

"Okay," Ryan said. "I guess I'll teach you a few things. Then we can watch that Replacements documentary I ordered."

"You got another one Ryan? Really?"

"This is a new one. A different one."

"Okay, honey," Brendon patted him on the head. "What are we eating Saturday?"

"Something good," Ryan suggested vaguely. "I have to watch it for the rest of the week because I have a weigh in coming up at the end of the week. The whole company does."

"But Ryan. You're so skinny."

"I'm just maintaining for it, Brendon. I'm not losing or something."

"Well, that means I'm gonna have to fatten you up Saturday," Brendon smiled teasingly.

"Don't make me too fat. I won't be a very good teacher."

"Ryan!" Brendon gasped. "Are you gonna wear the leg warmers when you teach me?"

"You just keep pushing it with the stupid leg warmers."

"Maybe I'll get you another pair for Christmas this year to go with them."

"Brendon. Just rub my back so we can go to sleep."

Brendon obliged him but didn't stop the conversation. "Hey Ry. Thanksgiving is coming up, you know."

Ryan made an acknowledging noise as he gave himself over to the massage Brendon was giving him. "I know. I'm pretty sure we have it off."

"Good," Brendon said, "you can come with me to my parents' and I can have mom really fatten you up."

 

_*_

 

"Hey, Frank. Zee. I found a new holiday song this morning on the subway," Ryan held out his phone to them at the beginning of class. The blog post from Google read:

Sleighbells ring, are you listenin'?  
In the wings, sweat is drippin'  
Some blinding stage lights  
Another snow corps tonight  
Just tryna get through Nutcracker season

 

Zee only half paid attention to Ryan and Frank and Ryan's phone. She was too busy messing with her hair and looking annoyed about it.

"Fuck, that needs to be on a Christmas album." Frank declared. "Actually, maybe me and you should get together and write one. A ballet Christmas."

Ryan made a face. "That is too much ballet." 

Frank made a similar expression. "I agree."

Zee huffed. "Shit, do you guys think I have time to redo this stupid bun?"

"Why?" Frank asked. "It looks fine."

"I have a damn bobby pin stabbing me in the head but I don't know if it will ruin the bun if I take it out."

Zee turned her back to them. "Ryan, will you look and tell me if it looks like the entire bun will come out?"

"I don't think it will."

"Frank? What about you? You know what? Fuck it. I'm not taking the risk right before we go back into class."

 

_*_

 

"Are they seriously doing another shoe auction? Can you believe that shit? I heard they were doing another shoe auction."

Ryan was on the floor complaining and doing sit ups side by side with Zee in the company gym during a break that afternoon. It would be weights next.

"People want your nasty, bloody, sweaty shoes Ryan," Zee forced herself upward with ease, smirking at him. "Deal. Get on their level already."

"Ew," Ryan said. "Why? Don't these people understand my feet are disgusting? Don't they understand what kind of shit gets into our shoes?"

"Come on Ryan. Get on their level and post your arches on Instagram."

"I'm not a fucking Russian Zee. My arches are not Instagram worthy."

"You only say that because you're like, anti-internet," Zee rolled her eyes. "But I love you anyway my anti-internet guy. You know who has arches worthy of Instagram? That blue eyed girl Brendon is always hanging around. Sugar plum fairy. So hot."

"Zee, you are such a lesbian."

"Yep. That's what I am. And you're gay as hell for Brendon."

"I don't deny that. When have I ever denied that?"

"Then you understand. She is so hot." Zee paused with her sit ups, laying there. "I can't get her out of my head. Sugar plum fairy chick. She can give me sugar. Ryan, you don't understand. I would smash so hard. Do you understand what I am telling you in my life right at this second?"

Ryan didn't even try to stifle his snickering. "Brendon's going to love this."

"Shit. I need to talk to him. Have him introduce me to her."

"You want Brendon to introduce you to Sarah?"

"Have you been paying attention to me Ryan?! Have you been paying attention to any of my extremely non-hetero ranting?!"

"Okay." Ryan continued snickering at her. "I'll pass that along to him."

"Stop laughing at me. You're so stupid!"


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

 

"I don't understand why Johann needed to be so damn pissy today. Making me hold a port de bras for an entire eight-minute symphony. Fucking hell." Ryan complained at the end of Thursday night, while he was on his way out of the studio building with Brendon and Zee.

"Ryan, come on. I am sure he saw you acting like you didn't mess up that triple turn and just trying to act like you were landing in fifth." Zee pointed out. Her expression was a very know it all type of one to him and he was not in the mood.

"Zee. Not needed. I saw you getting all pissy about his corrections-"

"Hey! He pulled those out of his ass! He didn't even give me those last class! You were there! He said nothing last class about what he was bitching at me for not remembering! That was bullshit! I did like two seconds of the combinations and I swear to God he was about to curse me out in German!"

Brendon's friend Sarah walked up next to the three as some other dancers skirted around them with their stuff. Brendon worked super fast. Ryan hadn't expected him to get her to Zee this quickly. 

"Honestly, you guys, nobody even noticed. I think we were all too busy hoping there wouldn't be any more petit allegro." She said. She pulled her gray warm-up cardigan tighter around herself. Ryan noticed that Zee's eyes didn't leave her.

"There better be no more petit allegro," He said, "If I have to do one more petit allegro I swear I'm gonna find Johann and-"

"Oh yeah." Sarah interrupted, "That and no more extensions. I need better extensions. Why does he need to remind me every minute about my awful extensions by making us do a bunch of extension stuff?"

Zee's eyes widened at her. She was so obviously into just talking to Sarah. It was almost funny to Ryan. "Okay, what? Your extensions are great. You're one of the most flexible people in the studio!"

"Hardly," Sarah said quietly. 

"You are," Zee insisted, "And I have seen your arches. Ryan will tell you."

Ryan nearly snorted. "Zee did have A LOT to say about them being Instagram worthy."

"Yeah. Right. Come on."

Brendon did say all the time that Sarah was overly modest and needed to give herself more credit. She was certainly showing that there was truth to his words.

"They are. Far better than mine. I have what we call, gross dancer feet," Zee shrugged.

Sarah smiled the tiniest bit at that and Ryan could tell that the way her big blue eyes lit up was having a serious effect on Zee. "Duh. We all have gross dancer feet."

"Not when you have arches that good."

Brendon butted in at this point: "I think Zee wants to take you and your good arches out. Isn't that what you told me, Ryan? Isn't that why she wanted me to get Sarah to talk to her?"

Sarah rolled her eyes, "That wasn't very smooth Brendon. You could have let her tell me that. That is if Brendon's not telling me bullshit and Ryan did say that."

Zee broke into a gigantic grin, "So you're interested?"

"Sure," Sarah said. "You're very pretty, Zee. And I'm not with anyone at the moment. Why would I turn down a girl as good looking as you are?"

"See." Brendon bragged, putting an arm around Sarah, "I'm an amazing matchmaker. You two would have never gotten this far if I hadn't told you why Zee wanted to talk to you. You both would have just been here having awkward conversation time for another hour."

She rolled her eyes again. "Yes. You're so cool, Brendon. Where would we be without you? Nobody in this world would ever date."

 

_*_

 

"Ryan, you're so weird!" 

Ryan turned around from the sink at which he was brushing his teeth. He never stopped rising and falling on his toes and stretching. "What? I'm doing my rises!" He said around his toothbrush. "I have to do them before bed! I do these all the time, Bren!"

Brendon looked like he was about to laugh. "Why do you have to do them while brushing your teeth though?"

Ryan turned back to the sink and spat. "Because I am tired and I won't get them done if I don't do them right now."

"You're really weird. Look at you!" Brendon giggled. "I'll be in bed my sugar plum fairy."

"I'm not the sugar plum fairy!" Ryan called after him.

"You are when you do things like that!"

Ryan didn't respond. He ignored Brendon. He finished up his nighttime routine without a word.

He flopped on his back on the bed a few minutes later, grabbing his phone from his nightstand on the way. "Ugh, I don't want to read my corrections but I have to read my stupid corrections or Johann will definitely curse me out tomorrrow!"

Ryan sighed dramatically, trying to muster up the will to do his reflecting. He found none. "Brendon I don't want to read my corrections!"

Brendon laughed again. He leaned over and nibbled at Ryan's jaw. "What if I give you a reward if you read them? Will that make you read them?"

Well. Now Ryan had no excuse. Ryan admired how his boyfriend wore nothing but his underwear as he answered him. "Tempting. Depends on what the reward is. Better be good because I also have to put the stupid new skin on my feet after I read my corrections. If I read them."

"I'll give you some ridiculously good head if you read your corrections and deal with your feet."

Yep. Ryan had no excuse. People would really understand that he had no excuse if they'd experienced Brendon sucking them off. "Bribing me with good head? I think that will actually work."

"Aren't you happy we have a date tomorrow night?" Brendon asked smugly, kissing him on the cheek. "We'll get to have a lot more sex. I'll make sure you're screaming so loud that the entire city will wish they were you."

"Shut up Bren-"

"You shut up. You're smiling. Now read your corrections, Ryan."

"Okay. Get my stupid new skin from the bathroom. I want to get that out of the way so I can fully enjoy my reward. Nothing kills the mood like knowing you have to put new skin on your blisters right after sex."

 

_*_

 

"I cannot believe you. Pizza and ice cream. Damn Ryan. You're a pig." Brendon laughed as they entered the convenience store down the street from the loft. Ryan had selected the menu for that night right before the last class of the evening. "What happened to you not being able to eat junk, babe?"

Ryan poked him and stuck his tongue out. "Fuck off. I was right where I needed to be for the weigh-in earlier. We're eating a ton of pizza and the hot fudge. I am starving. I need to eat."

He grabbed a blue basket from the black holder by the entrance and headed straight to the freezer section with Brendon following behind him. "And I am so mad about all my classes from these last two days and Johann being irritating that I can't differentiate whether I need to eat junk or I just want to so we're eating junk tonight."

"Well, what do you want on the pizza?" Brendon asked. "So I can put in the order and they can bring it to us."

"Load that thing. I want everything. And I want extra cheese. What kind of ice cream do you want? I am getting double chocolate chip."

"That's fine by me," Brendon said, as he tapped the pizza order into the food delivery app that they used for takeout. "Bad ass. I love double chocolate chip."

"I am getting two cartons of it. We need enough for tomorrow night too. Make sure you get an extra large pizza."

"Are you still gonna dance with me Ry?"

"I told you I would. Why do you think we need enough pizza and ice cream for tomorrow too? This is a two-part date. We're gonna watch movies tonight and tomorrow I'm gonna teach you to dance."

Brendon kissed him when he finished with the pizza order. "Good. Let's go get the fudge and whipped cream and stuff."


End file.
